Threadbare
by Spazztic Revenge
Summary: (AU) Time had passed, but he wasn't ready to let go of what they were. Of what they could be.


**A/N: Because all that comes to mind while listening to Hello by Adele are these two frustrating idiots.**

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The silence made Kougami restless, uneasy as he sat back in his chair, unable to focus on the book in his grasp. His eyes traced over the sentences he'd read so many times over the years, but all of the words just didn't resonate with him as they always had. Their meaning couldn't sink in, not when almost the entirety of his attention was zeroed in on the cell phone mere meters from his hand.

His fingers twitched in its direction, seeking to satiate a fix he'd only recently become acquainted with in recent weeks. He knew he shouldn't. It had only been a matter of minutes since his last call and he still hadn't managed to get an answer. It didn't look like he was ever going to get one.

Instead he let his fingers find purchase on his usual vice and that seemed to satisfy them for the time being. He breathed in the smoke of his cigarette and let it out in one slow, controlled breath, watching it curl towards the ceiling and dissipate into the air. He had suspected this would happen. What else could he have expected? To just run away and come back and find that everything had stayed the same? That his old life would still be there to welcome him back? That Ginoza wouldn't have moved on?

He scoffed and picked up his single malt scotch, swallowing the remainder after a brief swish.

Kougami had left, gone off to find himself. The life he had been living had been dull. Everything had grown colorless, and he felt his own heartbeat deadening with each passing day. Kougami had needed to get out, explore and seek out answers to the questions he hadn't even formulated yet. Taking a leave of absence from his job, he'd packed up a bag and bought a one way ticket out. It had been easy.

The only pause he gave was for Ginoza.

Kougami's need to escape had hurt him. He could see it in the way those perfect emerald orbs clouded over in an instant. In the way his slender brows knitted together and his lips twitched into a frown. In the way he held himself, guarded against the man he had known for practically forever.

When the silence became too much, and Kougami was willing to do anything to break it, Ginoza finally spoke, his words clipped, tone painfully clinical. He asked him questions he didn't have the answers to.

 _"Why are you leaving?"_

 _"I don't know."_

 _"Where are you going?"_

 _"I'm not sure."_

 _"When will you be back?"_

 _"Time will tell."_

 _"Why can't you be happy here?"_

 _"That's what I'm trying to figure out."_

 _"Why are you leaving me?"_

That question, and the agony etched into it, made his heart stop. He wasn't leaving Ginoza. He loved him too much to do that. He just couldn't stay. Not right now. He needed to go and quench his thirst for the unknown before it drove him insane. It could only do him good. He hoped it would make him happier. He could figure out who he was and why his life was necessary. He would become a better man, for himself and for Ginoza. He just needed to get the other man to understand that.

But he couldn't. No matter what he said, Ginoza didn't get it. They ended up fighting, their voices raising to dangerously high levels and neither backing down. Tears were shed. Furniture was broken. The world lost even more of its pigmentation.

Kougami slammed Ginoza's front door shut, hard enough that he wondered later if he had damaged its hinges. He left without a goodbye, without any reassurances that Kougami would be back or that Ginoza would be waiting for him.

Kougami sighed as he filled his glass once more, uncaring towards his night's count. There was that voice in the back of his head, telling him to fuck the calling and to just go bang on his door until he finally _talked_ to him. But he knew, without a doubt, that Ginoza would want nothing to do with him after that. Ginoza didn't appreciate violent outbursts, no matter how noble the cause.

A few minutes of silence was enough to beat his already battered will into the ground. He slammed his glass down with more force than necessary and picked up his phone, hesitating for only one moment more before dialing the number his cell was a little too familiar with. He just wanted to hear his voice, apologize, maybe see him, maybe find some semblance of what they once had.

It rang and rang until Kougami felt every cell in his body freeze up in anticipation. For some reason he felt like this call could be different – that it could end in something other than bitter disappointment and a strike to his heart.

It wasn't and Kougami couldn't even find his voice to leave a message this time. He hung up with a swift click and settled back into the couch, his cell dead weight in his palm. Ginoza didn't answer. He never did. He didn't even _care_ to call back.

It was in these times that Kougami found his imagination running wild with what Ginoza could be doing instead of calling him back. Instead of answering. Instead of just _listening_ to what he had to say. Kougami needed to tell him that he had left, but he hadn't left him. He had always been with Ginoza. There had been no one else.

It wasn't hard to conjure up the images. Akane had been most helpful in supplying him with just enough information to make his chest ache. At first, he had been worried. He had worried that something had happened to Ginoza. Maybe in his absence Ginoza had been hurt, or hurt himself. He knew how fragile the man could be, especially when Ginoza thought no one wanted him.

Akane had quickly set him straight. After a round of tears, hugs, and admittedly painful, but completely justified punches from the petite girl, and her telling him to never do something like that _ever_ again, she had told him that Ginoza was fine, not that he deserved to know. Interestingly enough, Akane and Ginoza had bonded in his absence, but Kougami was happy that Ginoza was able to have someone while he was away.

It had taken a lot of begging, but he had finally managed to weasel the information out of her. It definitely hadn't been what he was expecting – far, far different, actually.

Ginoza was happy. He could see it in the picture Akane had on her phone of their little gang from a get together they'd had a few months back. He was smiling, eyes clear and shining. His brilliant gaze was unhindered by his useless glasses, and his hair was mostly out of his face, back in a careless ponytail.

According to the brunette, Dime was healthy and still by his side. Ginoza's practice was doing well, although his case load was pretty heavy. He had finally gotten that dog therapy license that he had been on the fence about for eons. And he had gotten back into gardening, found it therapeutic, apparently. Kougami grinned at that bit of information. He knew that before Ginoza hadn't gone anywhere near gardens since the passing of his grandmother. He had really grown.

Akane hesitated before continuing and Kougami knew he wasn't going to like whatever came next.

 _"He met someone."_

His previous happiness was snatched back in one sentence and he had to take a full minute to process her words. Ginoza, the same Ginoza that had never been with anyone but him, had never even been _interested_ in anyone but him, had met someone. His Nobuchika had met someone.

She assured him that he was a great guy. Sugou Teppei was a well put together, well off man that was extremely into Ginoza, and very fond of Dime. They had met at an art gallery and had been good friends ever since. He was "the sweetest" in Akane's opinion, and Kougami couldn't listen to her anymore. Although, he surely didn't miss the "good friends" part.

He still had time. If he could just get the man to pick up the phone, he could get Ginoza to see how much he still needed him, how much they were meant to be. As much as Kougami had always wanted the best for Ginoza, he couldn't find it in him to be grateful about this. He knew he should. He knew he should let Ginoza live out the rest of his life in much deserved peace. Even if that meant letting him be in another man's arms.

There was just no way he could let them go like that. They had too much to abandon ship now. Their love was worth more than that. They weren't going to end as a past love story he'd tell his grandchildren someday.

Kougami picked up the phone and dialed once more. He didn't even let Ginoza's voicemail halt him. He hung up and called again. The thirteenth call slowed him down and with a heavy breath he left one last voicemail on his oldest and best friend's phone. It was the last one he would leave, and was by far the most revealing message of them all. He felt naked, open in a way that he wished he had let himself be before.

"I love you… Please talk to me."

It was too simple and it wasn't enough, but Ginoza wouldn't want to hear anything more. Not if he was anything like the man he had left. Anything more and he would dismiss it as Kougami's usual bull shit. He hung up before the vomit of confessions and assurances and pitiful excuses could make its way out. He felt empty as he stood there, useless phone in hand and no guarantee that any of that night had gotten him anywhere closer to his goal.

But he had hope. He had hope that Ginoza would finally give him a chance, and Kougami would tell him everything. Kougami had delved deep into himself during his travels. He'd seen and found a lot of the world, but mostly, he had found himself. He had found what he wanted in life, and he wanted a life with Ginoza. His trip had physically distanced him from Ginoza, but he never felt closer to him in his life. He loved him, and he was ready to prove it.

Ginoza would call him back. He could make this right.

Kougami settled himself down on his couch and let those little lies carry him off to sleep. It was easier that way, because the glossy coating of fiction made the bitter pill of reality easier to swallow.


End file.
